The Doctor's Notes
by Doshlover234
Summary: Dr. Herman Carter may be a killer, but when you do the same thing over and over again, you can get pretty disillusioned.
1. Failure

Dr. Carter has been here for far too long. The darkened skies made his eyes wish to slip into slumber with the monotony. The filthy tiles, blackened by grime and nature crawling back inside through the cracks ate at his OCD. How he wanted to burn it all and start fresh, but he had no method of starting a fire. The hallways were littered with gurneys and surgical equipment from patients long gone, lost to his bouts of madness. Carter did not have any regret for the death of his colleagues, but he considered that doing it as a slower pace may have prevented being trapped in this little slice of Hell.

Carter reflected upon this while sitting at his old desk, feet propped up on top and leaning back in his padded office chair. It was well-worn, with the cherry oak finish faded and chipping at the corners, and indents from his heavy boots sinking deep into the left corner of the desk top. The sides had some engravings to make it more fanciful to the eye, but they were mostly destroyed, with Carter's tendency to hit the left side with his club in frustration every so often. He had just gotten back from yet another trial. Games, he referred to them as in private. It was all very predictable, and he barely even tried anymore. That was likely the reason the entity sent him after newer, less experienced souls. To get its fill without needing to correct his mediocre performance. It mattered little to him. What did matter was his research.

Lazily reaching am arm to one of the plentiful stacks of files, books, and pictures that littered his office, his hand slid and pulled off a haphazardly bound notebook, with scraps of paper stuck together using tree sap from the forests he was often placed in. It was the only thing besides the desk and chair that wasn't covered in a layer of dust thick enough to stop you from reading the titles of anything it coated. He opened the tome, tenderly as to avoid ripping the paper asunder and losing what he had collected over these many years. The most recent blank page wasn't so much a page as a piece of trashed paper, with no mates attached due to the sudden lacking amount of garbage littering the ground of the horrible trials. At least, trash he could repurpose.

He patted his stained coat pocket for a moment to make sure it was still in place, and he sighed internally from relief to feel the familiar cylinder shape pressed against the fabric. Looking both ways, he slyly took out a pen from his pocket. It was his prized possession. The entity had no use for writing in its world, and so utensils like these were hard to come by. A man of his profession though, never went anywhere without a pen or pencil of some kind, and on the day he was taken, it had remained. The last piece of Carter's connection to the world beyond. Relishing in the sound and feeling of the spring clicking, setting the pen point to write, he pressed down onto the sheet. The ink was thick and appeared, in the eternal night and fog, to have become a muddy brown. He logged his results for the day.

_Trial 3541_

_It amazes me that the vocabulary from my past life applies so well to this place as well. Until now, I hadn't noticed the irony of listing each of these result sheets as trials. The modifications made to the electrodes in my arm was a complete failure. Reducing the voltage did not prevent the onset of hypermania in subjects, regardless of gender or race. The response from them from underwhelming. The majority fell into what I could only describe as a moment of clarity, laughing from what they presumed to be my weakness. Two subjects, however, had totally different behavioral modification. Subject Dwight expressed a sudden, uncharacteristic period of confidence and bravery after treatment application, allowing him to move faster than his normally shaky, hesitant strides. Subject Nea, meanwhile became incapacitated due to what appears to be multiple simultaneous muscle cramps._

_Overall results: Unsuccessful, no meaningful change in state of mind or physical ability._

_Next Trial: Lower voltage another 5 units. Attempt to apply treatment while in direct contact with subject._

Carter gingerly shut and replaced the notebook onto its place atop a pile of manuals for electrical and mechanical engineering. Right where it belonged. He slid his right hand across his face, instinctively parting his finger for his eyes. Tucking his prized pen back into his pocket, safe from inquiring eyes, he stood up and strode towards the exit. Sweeping up his club, now recharged with his body in direct contact, he left the darkened cell of his office to prepare for the next trial. With one last huff, he stomped down the hall. His eyes were drying out again.


	2. Strange Ongoings

Hey guys. I decided to write a second piece to this since I recently got back into playing the Doctor and felt inspired. I was curious to see if you'd like to see this become a multi-chapter story, or stay in the vaguely connected short notes style it currently is. Either way, Carter's journal will be the meat of the story, one will make the story a bit more conventional is all. I was also curious to see if you'd like me to maintain The Doctor as the sole character, or to introduce other killers/survivors into the story.

* * *

Another day, another ritual. Dr. Carter never liked his rituals for the Entity. Shock a few survivors, maybe hook them in the basement or something to that effect. Tedium, he thought of it. If the Entity hadn't _enticed_ him with additional bloodpoints to continue his modifications and performance testing, he'd never even bother with the damn things.

On the bright side, upon doing one of these exercises in patience, he stumbled across a fascinating character that he couldn't wait to write about in his journal. With the Entity's new obsession with the Yamaoka family, there has been plentiful amounts of bamboo for him to convert into proper sheets of paper. Herman was certain the Entity was aware of his scribbling by now, but either the Entity didn't care enough to do anything about it, or allowed it to continue as a reward of sorts. His kill ratio has been improving ever since The Observer burst through the Fog with his own tasks. They were worse than the Entity's, but at least the rewards were well worth it.

Clicking his prized possession into the primed position, he brought his experiment journal up from below his chair, how it got there was anyone's guess, and began to write to his heart's content.

_Trial 3618_

_Good news and bad news for today's experiment. The bad news is that I made the voltage too high by a 37% margin, and caused one of the survivors to go into a catatonic state. Since they were effectively useless, once I hooked him up, the Entity claimed him straight away to continue the rest of his game without a dead weight in the mix. I believe the name was Adam, though I'm not certain. He's soft-spoken, similar to Dwight, without the leadership skills. The good news was that the maximized voltage seemed to have an adverse effect upon electronics while my Static Field was active. When I picked survivors up, generators would explode due to the sudden influx of power surging the unrepaired wires. It also burst a flashlight bulb, which was quite satisfying, if I may be so frank as to say so in my documentation._

_There was another incident that happened during this trial as well. Though unrelated to my research, I feel the need to note it in case a pattern emerges. It seems that the new survivor, whose name I've yet to overhear, may have a positive reaction to Carter's Spark, as it is referred to in Index 1. Despite the threat of violence, this particular woman stayed within the static field well beyond reasonable thresholds, and would at times seem to __jump__ into the shockwaves when I released them. To make matters even more curious, she bowed down in front of me and didn't make any moves to evade while I gave several doses of convulsions to the subject. Were it not against the rules to communicate with the enemy during the trials, I would have liked to speak about what was occurring, not that I don't have a few theories. If pattern emerges, this event will be acronymed as P.C.S (Positive, Calm, and Stable) in future logs._

He shut his journal and made sure this time, it was placed where it belongs, at the top of his stack of electrical and mechanic book from the past. It was a work in progress, and arguably his greatest and only work so far, so of course it got the top spot. Securing his pen back into his coat pocket, Herman decided he would take the time now to relax for a few moments, before anyone or anything came to bother him. Especially those infernal crows the Entity uses as his spies. He didn't care if they were spies, the cawing they made grated on his nerves to no end. Allowing his mind to slip under the veil of sleep, Dr. Carter dreamed of his life before. His wide open eyes darted back and forth, watching scenes unfold that only he could interpret. It'd been so long since he'd dreamed, and the dream was a pleasant one, nonetheless. A Godsend, if you were to ask him.


	3. The Intervention

Herman awoke with a start. His at first pleasant respite morphed in his mind's eye to some of his past actions, focused near the start of his "career" as one of the Entity's minions. Being blessed with The Spark, he at once took to toying with his subjects, watching their sanity unravel in ways he'd only dreamed of to that point. Making them see things that weren't really there. Pallets appearing where he'd destroyed them before. His phantom selves popping in before their eyes. His favorite was when that eerie red glow that emanated from his eyes stuck for some time to the subjects, scaring and confusing them. He took it all in with pleasure, unaware he was a tool now, and not a man.

Herman at once took note of how his surroundings had changed. He was no longer lounging in his office, dilapidated as it may be. Instead, he was standing in a void. The only thing that could create such a setting was that taskmaster of his. The one he'd come to resent. It spoke into his mind, for it rarely physically manifested, and as of yet had never appeared in a form with speech. Each word that came into his brain shattered his cranium, almost as bad as when there were simply too many afflictions he was tapping into at once during his trials. His teeth held fast against one another in a death grip as he was forced to endure his own afflictions for a while.

As the Entity finally reeled itself back, a new setting became clear to him as well. He was at the meat plant. God, how he hated the meat plant. The smell, the layout. Everything in it was designed to annoy him, he felt. The Entity had brought him here for a reason, however. He plodded forward, his steps creating thumps that rattled the shelves being passed by as he did so. Eventually, upon stumbling into the bathroom of this dreadful locale from the hole in the floor above, his keen senses told him that something he was supposed to seek out was nearby. Scanning the floor, he focused on the corpse, chained to the wall, that was clutching a piece of paper.

Bracing both hands, he pried the fingers apart. The slip of papyrus floated gently into the body's lap, ripe for the taking. Upon retrieving and unfolding the unreadable text, the paper burned up in his hands, and another splitting headache ravaged his senses. The pain was unbearable, to the point where Dr. Carter was unable to do so much as see, his vision was blurring so much. Only one minute passed, though it could've been as long as hours if Herman was asked to determine the length of time. Herman was back in his office, on his hands and knees.

Needing to document the last trial, he took to his loyal companions, pen and paper, and began to record his latest experiment.

_Trial 3700_

_The trial yielded similar results to the general averages among test subjects. I had another frustrating encounter with Meg during this run as well. Due to her agility, I was unable to test any one of my additions upon her. Several subjects are starting to also train themselves to stop screaming as their minds unravel, no doubt originating from Jake, the stoic of the survivors, I've come to recognize. I also had another two cases of P.C.S. occur from Yui on two separate occasions. This may become my primary route of investigation in the future._

_Overall results: **FAILURE**\- Subjects are adapting to techniques and counter strategizing. With estimated rate of subject loss, trial runs will cease in two months, assuming the most stubborn survivors resist change as they are apt to do._  
_Attention: Please see addendum for unforeseen change in protocol._

_Addendum_  
_After so much tinkering, the Entity has decided to aid in my research, if only I knew for sure how its information will affect me beyond the basic usage. Combining my notes from previous experiments with this strange knowledge granted by the Entity at Gideon's Meat Plant, I'll be able to fully alter a critical component of my Spark. If my theory is correct, I'll be able to optimize the method of transit used by the electricity to prevent it from leaking down over time. Not only would this allow me to gain further control over when to cause disorientation to the survivors, it would also grant me the ability to use my punishment stick and Therapy together, as I'm no longer passively losing charge. Sounds very strong on paper, but only in practice will this newfound power be found to be part of the Entity's twisted game, or a real innovation for myself._

Dr. Carter slid the journal back onto his desk and put his face in his palm. Rubbing his forehead, still burning and pounding from the Entity's intervention, he grunted in pain, gritted his teeth, and looked back to his work. Herman noticed something that unnerved him, in a single instant his sense of seclusion shattered. The journal had become plump, rich with fresh, crisp, blank sheets of paper to record further. That wasn't the scary part though. What was truly horrifying was the new symbol upon the cover. An image of Herman's Spark, resting in the claws of the Entity.


End file.
